


Don't Forget About Me

by meredithhildebrand



Category: Carry On - Rainbow Rowell
Genre: I'm so sorry, M/M, Major character death - Freeform, just read the tags, really I am, this almost made me cry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-29
Updated: 2017-04-29
Packaged: 2018-10-25 05:43:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,314
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10757904
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/meredithhildebrand/pseuds/meredithhildebrand
Summary: JUST READ THE TAGS





	Don't Forget About Me

* * *

 

* * *

 

BAZ  
  
I’m walking past Hyde Park when I smell it. The world shifts an inch over, and something's changed. Something's not right. It feels like the world has started to shatter, and I'm going to slip on the jagged pieces.  
Tangy. Fresh. _Acrid_.  
I don’t need to think for an extra second to realize that it’s blood. Blood that’s coming from the direction of Simon and Penelope’s flat.  
I start to run and don’t even notice the crowds of blurred faces staring at me. All I feel, all I smell, all I see is Simon laying on the floor of his flat in a pool of his own blood.  
His blood is scarlet. I’ve never seen it before, but I can tell a shade of blood apart from another one better than humans can detect the difference between the sun and the sky.  
I run even faster, and my lungs _heave and burn and ache but I don’t care I don’t care I don’t care._  
I reach the door of their flat, and the smell of blood is so strong that it’s all I smell and see. My vision is covered by a film of bright red and I feel my fangs growing out of my gums faster than they have before.  
I open the door, and I see Simon, who is lying on the floor.  
There’s a carpet of blood underneath him, and it’s beginning to touch the tips of his soft, bronze curls. His eyes are shut tight and his skin is pale, so pale and I don’t know if I can take this.  
I rush to his side and collapse to the ground and _the urge to drink every drop of his blood is so incredibly overwhelming but I can’t. I can’t I can’t I can’t._  
I grab his hand, and it’s ice-cold.  
His hand is still just as soft as it always was.  
_Simon_.  
_You weren’t supposed to leave. We were supposed to have a happy ending. We were supposed to live a life better than this._  
We were supposed to get everything we deserved.  
Weren’t we?   
I shut my eyes tight and press my forehead to Simon’s, and for once, his skin doesn’t burn my own.  
I feel myself crying, heavy, loud, desperate tears and the only thing that’s going through my mind is _Simon Simon Simon Simon Simon Simon._  
His bronze curls feel like dried plaster against my skin. They no longer feel like the crushed silk that they used to before.  
“Simon, Simon. I love you,” I whisper roughly, and my voice is broken apart and hoarse and raspy from my tears.  
They fall heavier now, onto his skin in drops that slide off his smooth, lifeless skin and into the pool of blood that surrounds him.  
I wrap my arms around his shoulders, pull his blood-covered body close to my own.  
His head falls against my shoulder, and I smell his blood, sickly-sweet and nauseating.  
The urge to drink is too great to ignore anymore and my hands are gripping his shoulders so tightly with the helpless purpose of _not drinking_ _his blood_ _oh god don’t Baz don’t you dare don’t you dare you can’t._  
I try to push the need of blood away, far away from here, down and under.  
Away. Go Away.  
I hold him tightly, and I feel his blood leaking out of him and onto me, and I can’t do this anymore.  
Help. Help. Help me.  
_Please. Do something. Do anything._  
I curl my head into Simon’s cool neck and whisper the same phrase over and over again.  
“I love you, I love you. Simon. ”  
My tears slip down my face and onto him and I don’t know how this happened. All I’m doing is wishing.  
Wishing for one more smile, one more laugh, one more _everything_. _One more anything_.  
_Weren’t we supposed to have forever?_

 

We were supposed to have a _lifetime_. 

  
Wishing is dancing with the devil. Wishing isn’t meant for people like me. Wishing is giving yourself away to your demons.  
Wishing is meant for fools.  
_This wasn’t supposed to happen. This wasn’t supposed to happen._  
_He wasn’t the one who was supposed to go. I was. It was me. It was never him._  
The cruelest thing about wishes is that most of the time, they don’t mean anything.  
That’s what hurts the most. That no matter what I do, they’ll never mean anything. They won’t make a difference. Everything will keep turning, and I’ll still go on, alone.  
I still remember Simon walking into my house, standing there in his mud-covered boots and rosy, dusted cheeks. He had the capability to turn me into someone who I didn’t recognize. Someone who I didn’t _want_ to recognize.  
I can’t remember what I was thinking that night. So many moons ago. I can’t remember.  
Funny, isn’t it. The way memory works. The things you can never remember, and the things you never can forget, no matter how hard you fucking _try to ignore. They never leave. You can never forget._  
This whole thing was a fucking waiting game. Waiting for one of us to fall, to plunge, and to take the other one with them. Knowing that you were _able_ to pull them down with them. Knowing that they would inevitably go down with you.  
A fucking waiting game.  
He set my world on fire, and he didn’t even have to light a match to do so.  
It was as easy as casting a spell. Easy. Effortless. Simple.  
That feels too long ago to know that it actually existed. That he saved me. He saved me.  
I never saved him. Not even _once_.  
He fixed me without even trying to and yet he did is so fast, so quickly, that if I didn’t turn my head fast enough to catch it, I would’ve missed it.  
I would’ve missed it. Could’ve misread the whole thing.  
Maybe it was a cruel game after all. A game put on by fate. A game that we thought we could win, if we were sneaky enough to do so. Creeping past open doorways, turning the cheek just one second too soon, stepping a foot over the thin line that separated us just an inch too far. Tip-toeing around each other, and both of us stepping too close.  
Fire. Ice. Two elements that inevitably do the same thing to each other, no matter how hard they try to keep the other from getting too close.  
Obliterate.  
Games like that don’t exist. And in order to win something like that…  
You can’t. You can’t win a game like that.  
All you’ll do is burn. Collapse into a pile of black ashes that with time, will blow away with the wind.  
We all fell down. One after the other. The domino effect.  
We all fell. Maybe, just maybe, we had this coming. All along.  
My lips are pressed against his neck, and the words fall freely now, and I don’t think that I’ll ever be able to stop.  
“I love you, I love you, I love you....”

  
_You can go. Before me, even if you weren’t supposed to go. I’ll be okay. I’ll try to carry on; I think it’s what you would’ve wanted for me to do. I can go on without you. You can leave. I’ll be fine, I think._  
_Wait for me. As long as it takes. I’ll be there soon, I promise. I’ll be okay here. Don’t worry about me, love. Don’t worry about me. I’ll be alright. I can let go._  
_Maybe this wasn’t supposed to last, after all. Maybe the fire that burnt beneath us wasn’t meant to last as long as we thought. Fire never does last forever. Maybe we were hoping for something else. A twist of fate._  
_Don’t forget about me, and I won’t forget about you.  
I promise._

**Author's Note:**

> okay, okay. when I had originally started writing my own work on this website, I seriously thought that I would never write something about this. These types of stories always make my heart break and I never really wanted to write about something like this because it seriously hurt my heart.  
> But things change, and after reading a few really well-written stories like this I thought that I owed myself and everyone else this story.  
> so, I really hope you enjoy. Really, really.  
> thank you all for reading, for those people who read to the end.  
> you have strength.


End file.
